


Dressed for the Occasion

by Erisabesu (ErisabesuFic)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: 5918, Action, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 05:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20483840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErisabesuFic/pseuds/Erisabesu
Summary: “Gokudera removes his Italian boots at the front door, and slips his suit coat from his shoulders on his way across Hibari’s sitting room. But that’s the only allowance for mobility that he’ll make when facing Hibari, a man who can make even seiza into an unbeatable fighting stance.”  [2009.03.27]





	Dressed for the Occasion

**“Dressed for the Occasion”**

◊

Gokudera removes his Italian boots at the front door, and slips his suit coat from his shoulders on his way across Hibari’s sitting room. But that’s the only allowance for mobility that he’ll make when facing Hibari, a man who can make even seiza into an unbeatable fighting stance.

Hibari sits there, motionless, not a flicker of closed eyelids when Gokudera intrudes. His lips curl in recognition, however; Gokudera takes a last long pull on his cigarette as Hibari lifts one slim arm from the fold of his yukata and draws attention to his gaping yawn with cupped fingers.

Gokudera responds with the hiss of dynamite.

It’s never been proven which is faster: Gokudera’s explosions, or Hibari’s explosive tonfa strikes. Their footwork is equally matched, their ability to gauge spacial relationships and utilize obstacles unparalleled unless the rain guardian or Varia’s swordsman count–and they don’t.

Inevitably, Gokudera will have his clothing shredded into worthless rags within five minutes. Hibari’s yukata will remain pristine because even two lousy minutes of fighting the Smoking Bomb will result in unwanted, sticky soot marks, and so Hibari takes the whole thing off–wordless commentary that this fight won’t be interesting enough to warrant the cleaning costs.

Angered, Gokudera slips in close enough to leave black handprints on Hibari’s skin instead. Hibari paints zebra-stripe bruises down Gokudera’s back and backside. Gokudera fights back until his vision blurs, or at least until Hibari decides he prefers not to breathe second-hand smoke after all and throws him through the crumbling wall into the next room, which happens to have a futon for two. After all, Hibari knows what Gokudera came for.

Even his acquiescence is an insult; Gokudera flattens them on the tatami and sinks his teeth around the flesh of Hibari’s nipple, adding an orbit of teeth markings. Hibari grunts and twists to push him off but Gokudera jerks his arm behind his back and pins him facedown with a move he perfected on Lambo years ago.

The glint of surprise in Hibari’s eyes rakes through both of them in fine tremors of potent, physical desire, turning everything prior into something of a romantic prelude.

Suddenly there’s not time enough. Gokudera’s ruined suit pants impede his scrabbling left hand, and Hibari reaches back and rips clean through the crotch–which might have been another slight but Gokudera doesn’t take the time to think it through just then. He’s arching forward and Hibari shifts back and there’s just enough sweat and lust for him to slide slowly in and stake his claim–he earned this, fair and square.

Hibari never makes much noise; Gokudera knows that Hibari’s silences can communicate volumes if he listens just right. So he bites the inside of his cheek and drowns the man under him with the sounds of skin meeting skin, knees grinding into the pattern of the floor, and blood circulating wild and hot in their veins.

Gokudera shifts forward for a better angle and Hibari’s breathing changes in density, cheek pressed to the floor. Gokudera watches, eyes never leaving Hibari’s face, and soon Hibari’s eye squints shut and his body jerks, tightening up so quick Gokudera can’t even move–Hibari spurts on the floor and then Gokudera throws his head back and moans, spilling right after.

Hibari gets up right away, padding naked over to an adjoining room and disappearing inside without looking back. Gokudera lies back on his side at the edge of the rubble and wishes Hibari had at least left the pocket with his cigarettes and lighter intact.

Moments later, Kusakabe slides open the only other functioning door and leaves some folded clothing in the entryway. He closes the door behind him, and Gokudera glances down at the remains of his suit, deciding that he really can’t go anywhere in such condition. He retrieves the folded garment and holds it up, finding a Yukata of impeccable quality but demure coloring; as expected of Hibari Kyouya.

Gokudera strips naked and puts it on, hearing movement behind him as he ties the sash and turns around. Hibari walks over in full Mafia attire, affixing a purple cufflink on the way. Gokudera eyes the sharp lines of Hibari’s limbs underneath the crisp black suit, wary of the smirk playing at Hibari’s mouth as if the last hour had never happened.

Hibari’s hand brushes over Gokudera’s dirty chest, his slim fingers angling inside the Yukata’s fold and stroking a line down to his navel, exposing him.

“Leave before I come back.”

Hibari walks away, and Gokudera chuckles. He lingers in Hibari’s house long enough to bathe, then picks his way around the debris and heads to the front door, nodding to Kusakabe on his way out.

“Send me the bill.” Gokudera lifts a hand in farewell.

After all, the winner takes responsibility–however temporary the position lasts.

—

Ω


End file.
